


have it ready, make it tasty

by MadelaineHeartEyes



Series: love can tell a million stories [1]
Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, but they try their best, or not deal with as the case may be, they're soft and i love them, trina has a lot of trauma to deal with
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 17:11:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19177759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadelaineHeartEyes/pseuds/MadelaineHeartEyes
Summary: Dinners in the Weisenbachfeld household.





	1. late for dinner, late late late late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mendel is late. Trina stresses over how to save his dinner, and why he's not home.

With a gentle _ping_ , dinner was ready. Trina was startled out of her daydream, her nails abruptly stopping their tapping against the surface of the table, and leaped out of her seat to prepare the meal. She pushed aside the thought that was at the forefront of her mind, even as her hands shook at the implications.

Mendel was late. Only fifteen minutes, she scolded herself. _But this was how it started before,_ whispered the traitorous little voice at the back of her head. Little things. Lateness. Misplaced items on her dresser. Maybe this was the beginning.

She called for Jason, yet still jumped when he came barrelling into the room and dove at the table.

Her mind was spinning. If she left Mendel’s dinner in the oven, it would dry out, and she’d never seen him eat dry steak and what if her started throwing things like Marvin would have? If she put it in the fridge, she’d have to reheat it and then it would go all congealed and was it safe to reheat steak? She’d never done it before and what if she ended up poisoning her husband? Oven or fridge. Fridge or oven. Fridge. Oven. Fridge, oven, fridge, oven, _fridge, oven_ -

“Mom?”

Jason’s voice cut through her thoughts like a knife and she spun to face him. His brow was furrowed and he was giving her that look like he had after Marvin left, like she was crazy, like he was scared she was about to collapse and start sobbing on the floor or something.

She gave him a weak smile, but the look on his face didn’t dissipate; she turned back to Mendel’s plate, her fingers dancing along the edges. Fridge it was - she didn’t know how long he would be. Trina slid into her own seat, ignoring Jason’s eyes still fixed on her as she pushed the food around - her appetite was gone.

To her surprise, when Jason asked to be excused from the table, instead of simply accepting her hug and keeping his arms stiff by his sides as he always did, he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed tightly. The pressure was reassuring, and Trina had to close her eyes for a moment lest tears rise in them.

He even stayed for a moment after she kissed his forehead.

“Mom - he’s probably just stuck in traffic.”

Trina was speechless for a moment - was she really that transparent? Then she reached out a hand to tuck back a stray piece of hair that had fallen across his face, and kissed his forehead again, keeping her arms on his shoulders.

“I - I know. I’m alright, darling, thank you.”

Satisfied, he broke away from her grip and ran off up the stairs. Trina cleared away their plates - even though she had barely touched her own meal - then moved back to her seat.

She could hear the seconds ticking by on the clock, punctuating the anxious tapping of her foot. _Tap, tap, tap, tick, tap, tap, tap, tick, tap, tap, tap, tick._

She didn’t even notice as it got dark outside.

***

Mendel barrelled through the front door in precisely the way that Trina hated. “It’s no wonder Jason treats the house like a race track,” she said every time he burst through a doorway or up the stairs.

His brow furrowed immediately when he realised the entire downstairs was in darkness - he was late, very late, but Trina never went up this early. She was always cleaning and fussing until he forcibly pushed her up the stairs.

He flicked on a light, and almost jumped out of his skin when he noticed his wife sitting, unmoving, at the kitchen table. He moved to kiss her cheek, before noticing the stiffness of her shoulders, and her hands wringing frantically in her lap.

“Trina, honey, I’m so sorry I’m late, there was-”

She didn’t look at him as she cut him off, instead staring straight ahead with glazed eyes.

“If you're having an affair, please leave me now. I won’t go through that again. The years of uncertainty, being too afraid to know the truth and ignoring all the signs. I _can’t_ go through that again.”

Her words stunned him for a moment, even as her voice cracked - he felt his heart break in his chest. All that doubt, all that fear that she had to live with.

“No, no, no - Trina…”

Mendel pulled out a chair and sat down beside her, cupping her face and turning it towards him. Her cheeks were dry, but her eyes were sparkling and she was shaking - he felt a little frantic himself, desperate to rectify the situation.

“Trina - I love you. I am not having an affair - I would _never_ have an affair. I love you _so much_.”

She pulled away, and he panicked for a moment before she buried her head in her hands and she finally let out a dry sob. Her nails were bloody - she must have been picking at them as she waited, and he felt tears pricking in his eyes.

He reached out a hand to her shoulder, and she grasped for it suddenly, gripping it so tightly he almost winced. She was cold, and shaking, but holding his hand, and when he pulled her against his chest she came willingly. He kept muttering ‘ _I love you’_ against her hair until she finally started to calm down.

Mendel placed a gentle hand under her chin to lift her up, before kissing her lightly. She relaxed for a moment, then suddenly ripped her hands away from him, putting one over her mouth.

“Oh - oh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry - I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head immediately, placing one hand on her shoulder and using the other to ease her hand from her mouth.

“Trina - honey, it’s okay. _I’m_ sorry I was so late, and worried you. My last client ran late, then there was an accident on the bridge, then a roadblock right near here.”

Trina still looked fraught, but was holding his hand again, gripping it like a lifeline. It always seemed to anchor her, ground her when her mind was running wild. He always wished he knew how to do more - he was a psychiatrist, yet he didn’t know how to help his own wife, and that made him feel so guilty he could cry.

“No - it’s not your fault. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed - I’m sorry. It’s just, after everything Marvin did, I ignored it all and I just -“

A single tear finally escaped, and tracked its way down her cheek. Mendel swiped it away gently with the pad of his thumb, and she closed her eyes, exhaling shakily.

“I know sweetheart, I know. You’re allowed to be scared. It’s okay. You can ask me whatever you want - I love you so much."

More tears ran down Trina’s cheeks, but the ghost of a tiny smile appeared. She looped her arms around his neck, and pulled him close so their foreheads were together. Mendel brought his hands back up to cup her face, then pressed their lips together gently. Trina leant into the kiss, parting her lips and pulling him even closer.

When they separated, she was gasping slightly, and Mendel dropped his mouth to her neck experimentally. She inhaled sharply, her hands tightening on his shoulders. He smiled slightly against her skin, one of his hands moving down to play with the front of her blouse. Trina grabbed the table as he undid the first button, and squeaked softly at each one following. He pushed the garment off her shoulders, pressing his lips to her collarbone - until she suddenly pushed him away. He started to stutter out a question, an apology, something, but she pulled him to her and buried her face in his neck, shaking again.

Mendel started rocking her slowly, hushing and stroking her hair. He couldn’t tell if she was crying or not, but laid a gentle kiss against her temple.

“It’s okay. I’m here - I’m not going anywhere. You’re alright.”

“Mom?”

Both of their heads whipped round to see Jason standing in the doorway, his eyes wide as he surveyed the scene before him. Trina frantically pulled her shirt back up with shaking hands, trying to smile at her son. It looked more like a grimace, and her face was wet with tears - Jason glared at Mendel with stormy eyes that held more knowledge than any child of his age should have.

“I’m okay, darling. Just relieved that Mendel’s home and safe.”

Jason didn’t look entirely convinced, and made a face when Trina kissed Mendel’s cheek lightly.

“I promise I’m alright - you can go back to bed. We’re okay.”

With one last glare at Mendel, he turned and left. They heard his footfall up the stairs, then Trina put her head in her hands again. Mendel made to rub her back, before realising she was laughing. He felt a chuckle rising in his own chest, and soon they were both clutching each other while attempting to stay quiet.

“Oh my God - of all the things he has seen, his mom at the kitchen table in her bra must be up there." 

Trina smacked his shoulder lightly - likely at both the blaspheming and the statement itself - but then rested her forehead on his shoulder. She seemed much calmer, and Mendel wrapped an arm around her, rubbing absent-mindedly. When she sat up, she hooked her arms around his neck again.

“I love you. And I _do_ trust you - I just sometimes get…”

Mendel cut her off with a kiss.

“I know, and it’s okay. I love you.”

Trina jumped up all of a sudden, moving to the fridge.

“I put your dinner in the fridge because I wasn’t sure how long you’d be, I’ll just heat it up now and it won’t be long-“

He cut her off again, this time with a hand on her wrist.

“Don’t you worry about that. All I want right now is to go upstairs and sleep with my beautiful wife.”

Trina raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly.

“Sleep next to or _sleep with_?”

Mendel stood up and kissed her, wrapping his arms around her waist, then whispering in her ear.

“Whatever you want, honey.”

She flushed slightly, but let him lead her up the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! please leave a comment if you did, it means a lot to hear from you <3 x


	2. chop chop chop chop chop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner will not be ready on time. Mendel doesn't mind - Trina does.

Trina could hear the tick of the clock echoing throughout the room like it was mocking her, the seconds falling away until her husband would be home.

Dinner would not be served, would not be ready as he walked through the door.

She, Trina Weisenbachfeld, would be single-handedly responsible for the destruction of their familial bliss, all because she was stupid, and careless, and had forgotten to leave the oven to preheat as she hoovered the living room. She failed to notice the lack of tell-tale whirring that would indicate she had _done her fucking job_ , then promptly dropped the lasagne when she realised the oven was stone cold.

The dish had shattered like in a cartoon, the sauce flying across the tiles and staining her tights and hitting the cupboards all full of glass and pasta and she almost cried but she didn’t cry because she didn’t have time to cry because Mendel would be home and there would be nothing on the table and he’d be angry because he worked so hard all day and she was a disappointment and he’s finally recognise that and wouldn’t want to be with her anymore and she would have failed another marriage and what would her mother say and maybe he’d shout and throw things just like-

No. She didn’t have time for that. So set the oven to preheat like she should have done earlier, and finished the shepherd’s pie she had started that was supposed to be for tomorrow, but would end up being for tonight’s late and unsuccessful meal. Served her right.

Once the pie was in, she cleaned up the glass and the sauce, fighting back tears again. The dish had been her aunt’s, the one who taught Trina to cook and brought dainty bracelets for her birthday and always told her she looked pretty. And now it was shattered into a thousand pieces on the kitchen floor. Trina was numb, numb enough not to notice the glass cutting into her shins as she knelt to pick up the shards.

It took three rounds of mopping to get the last traces of tomato off the white tiles. She was too clumsy for white tiles. In fact, she didn’t deserve the beautiful kitchen, where everything was new and clean and just waiting for her to knock something over.

Making lists in her head was always calming, and as she ticked items off she was able to kid herself that she was handling the situation. She had to be strong, because Jason would hear the shouting when Mendel got home and she didn’t want to cry in front of him anymore than she already had. So she chopped the vegetables with barely shaking hands. She was just clumsy, and that’s why she caught the end of her finger and had to start again because the broccoli was stained red and it was spreading across the chopping board. She could have fainted then, but didn’t - the cut wasn’t that bad, she reasoned, so just wrapped it up and carried on. Now the vegetables wouldn’t be ready in time with the pie, and the pie would get burnt or cold and no one would want it anyway.

So Trina chopped, chopped, chopped, and pushed the dish of broccoli into the oven, before starting the fruit to put in the fridge to cool. Then she heard the door open.

***

Mendel could sense the tension in the house as soon as he came in the door. Of course, he didn’t believe in all that ‘aura’ nonsense - he was a scientist, technically, he dealt in facts. But he, somehow, knew something was wrong.

That became all the more evident when he moved into the kitchen. He knew his wife was anxious - it was one of the things he loved about her, even if it did exasperate him some of the time (more of the time than he cared to admit, but that was neither here nor there) - but he had never seen her in such a state. She was flying between the oven and the countertops, chopping fruit and turning dishes and sprinkling herbs. She nearly tripped as she crossed the kitchen, moving in a whirlwind of frantic energy. He was stunned for a moment, before stepping forwards.

“Hi - hi honey. What’s for dinner? - it smells good.”

It did, but that wasn’t why he said it. He was hardly knowledgeable about food - he would eat pretty much anything, especially if his wife made it.

She jumped, but didn’t look at him, simply continuing to chop an apple with such speed he was scared for her fingers. He stepped towards her, leaning in for a kiss, but she waved him away, still not looking at him.

“No no no, just leave me to finish. Oh, I’m sorry, I - I forgot to put the oven on and now it’s going to be late - I’m so sorry, I was cleaning and -”

She kept rambling, but he took her by the shoulders and turned her towards him. Even in his confusion, he knew he needed to stop her spiralling - her grip on the knife was so tight her knuckles had turned white.

“Trina, honey - _Trina_. It’s okay - I don’t mind. Whenever it’s ready, honey, it’s not a big deal.”

Only then did he realise she was shaking from head to toe. She tried to break away, but he led her to a chair and sat her down in it, easing the knife from her hand and placing it on the table. He sat down next to her, keeping his hands on her upper arms.

“Trina - take a few deep breaths. Calm down.” 

She did as he said, but her eyes remained wide and panicked even as her breathing slowed.

“I’m sorry - I really tried - it won’t be long, I promise. I’m sorry.”

He hushed her quickly, rubbing her arms.

“Trina, it’s really okay. I don’t mind - not at all.”

She looked at him in disbelief, but some of the tension dissipated from her shoulders.

“You - you mean it?”

He leant in to kiss her nose gently.

“Of course I mean it. What’s got you so wired, honey?”

She shook her head, trying to move away again, but he held fast. She slumped back in the seat, covering her face for a moment.

“He - Marvin - liked a schedule. He wanted his dinner ready when he got home.”

He could sense that she wasn’t telling him everything, and tried to coax it out of her.

“Trina…”

“He used to throw things, okay? He would get so angry I would be terrified, then he’d leave and sleep with someone and come home in the morning after the mess was cleaned up and act like everything was okay and I’d have to go along with it. Is that what you want to hear?”

Her eyes filled with tears as she spoke, and her tone held no anger despite her words - Mendel was stunned into silence again, but wrapped his arms around her. Trina was still shaking, her hands flitting as they came to rest against his back. He whispered against her hair as he held her tight.

“I’m so sorry honey, I didn’t know. I didn’t have any idea - I don’t care about when dinner is ready. I’m not him. I’m not Marvin.”

She began to relax in his arms, and he pulled away after pressing a kiss to her temple.

“I love you so much, you know that?”

Trina nodded tentatively, before going to stand up. That’s when he noticed the blood on her legs.

“Honey, oh my God, you’re bleeding. Okay, sit down.”

She waved a hand, but acquiesced and lowered herself into the chair again. She winced suddenly, as though only just noticing the pain.

“I’m fine - really. I just dropped a dish and it shattered…”

She trailed off, and his heart sank.

“Was it your aunt’s dish?”

She nodded solemnly, and he reached out to take her hand.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry you got in such a state - I promise you, dinner _does not_ matter to me.”

She smiled sadly at him, raising their intertwined hands to her lips and kissing the back of his. Then he jumped into action, grabbing the first aid kit and sorting out her shins. They were covered in cuts, some deeper than others - Trina whimpered slightly as he cleaned the skin, but didn’t complain. He wrapped bandages around them tenderly, then kissed her lightly. It looked a bit ridiculous, but did the job.

“You’re my Egyptian mummy now.”

Trina gave a lopsided smile, but kissed him back. She moved to the oven, but he stopped her.

“I’ll finish up dinner. You go into the living room and sit down - you deserve it.”

She smiled at him again, so softly his heart melted, but shook her head.

“No,” she said firmly, “I’m fine to finish up, I promise.” She paused, looking at him slightly sheepishly. “I might take a Valium though, I’m still a bit...”

A shudder ran through her - Mendel kissed her cheek (he couldn’t reach the top of her head when she was standing) and squeezed her hand lightly.

“Whatever you want, honey. I’ll go up and grab them.”

Trina seemed reluctant to let go of his hand, but when he came downstairs again she was back to chopping fruit. He was struck suddenly by just how much he loved her, her tenacity, her inner strength (despite the nerves). He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, kissing the back of her neck - she jumped, but leant into the touch - she was still trembling a bit.

He handed her the bottle silently, watching as she took one of the blue pills, then hid the bottle in a cupboard.

“Honey - Jason won’t notice, and won’t care.”

“I know that.”

She didn’t sound too sure, so he kissed her nose gently, then stroked back a stray curl.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

She smiled at him, and pressed their lips together.

“I know - I just…”

He nodded at her.

“No, I get it. It’s okay. I’ll take them back up for you.”

She caught his wrist as he stepped away.

“Please - stay with me.”

He was surprised by the request, but schooled his features back into neutrality.

“Of course. Forever.”

She giggled.

“Okay, that sounded better in my head.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mendel's a dork and I love him.


End file.
